


An Uplifting Unity

by yuckyrat



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Elf / Mecha Relationship(s), F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Self-Insert, no this isn't a joke fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-08-09 15:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuckyrat/pseuds/yuckyrat
Summary: A change in schedule results in a young wizard student meeting a bizarre but well-intentioned companion. [Mr. Upsy x OC fic, first meeting fluff and lots of silly antics!]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((Before you proceed: no, this isn't a joke fic. This isn't ironic or satirical. I love The Adventure Zone, and I found an unlikely comfort in Mr. Upsy. He makes me laugh and smile, and that's something I really cherish in my life. So yes, this is a fic of my own OC and Mr. Upsy. Please refrain from reading if this isn't your cup of tea, and go read something you do enjoy! You'll thank yourself. If this story does interest you, I am happy to answer any questions you have about Nadia or the story! I hope you enjoy!))

The loud, electronic blaring of an alarm clock rang through the air of a small, cozy dorm room, disrupting the peaceful silence that had lingered mere seconds before.

In the early morning slog, a small hand fumbled around on a nearby nightstand, attempting to seek out the source of the sound without looking. After grabbing several unoffending objects, the alarm clock was located and promptly silenced. The covers of the bed stirred in a sluggish manner, with the hand retracting beneath them to rub the tired eyes of its owner. After a moment of adjustment, the covers fell, with the sunrise through the window illuminating the figure they had been shrouding: a stumpy, young elf in a purple lace nightgown, bedraggled from a hasty night’s sleep. Her eyelids drooped with fatigue, but she persevered and hoisted herself out of bed. She had work to do, and it was no time to be bothered with exhaustion. 

Nadia Voidgrove was a squat, lowly young adult elf with short, lavender hair that hung down over her face. Her pointed ears were the only features unobstructed by her hair, poking out neatly between the strands; her pale, mint-green skin made it so that they were almost shining through the darkness, like two glowsticks stuck onto either side of her head. She had a little pointed nose, upturned slightly, like a mouse, and her eyes were a faded baby blue. With her puny stature and diluted palette, Nadia was quite possibly the most unremarkable student at the Miller Academy of Arcane Sciences. She was a wizard-in-training, and a fairly poor one, to boot; it seemed every spell, no matter the simplicity, would inevitably backfire and blow up in her face. She was a clumsy, disaster-prone sophomore, whom most other students politely declined to pair up with in their assignments. Despite her magnetism for catastrophe, she was quite friendly, albeit wracked with anxiety due to her frequent failures. She was soft spoken, often stuttering and stumbling over her words in her sheepishness. She did as she was instructed and tried her very best to perform as desired. Feeble and eager to please, she had attained quite a reputation amongst her peers and professors alike.

This particular morning, Nadia had been tasked with something slightly nonstandard for a student of her position; she was to clean and organize the academy’s on-campus Miller family museum. She was well aware that she had been given this assignment to avoid involving her in the scheduled lesson for the day, which involved fairly dangerous spellcasting even for a cautious, experienced wizard; it would no doubt pose a massive hazard had she partaken in the experiment, and she was grateful to be working on something that wouldn’t threaten the safety of herself and, more importantly, others. She had set her cacophonic alarm precisely an hour before the expected time so as not to risk being late. Granted, she was going to be completely alone during her janitorial duties, but she knew her pacing all too well, and the last thing she wanted was to find herself working into the late hours of the night. After changing into her hat and robe, brushing her hair, and fixing herself enough to be seen in public, she took a deep breath and exited her dorm, making a steadily-paced walk toward the northern hallway exit. The museum was, thankfully, not far from the students’ living quarters, with only a small garden in between them. 

As she traversed the campus lawn, her socks dampening from the morning dew in the grass, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited. She had never been inside the museum before, despite having attended the academy for quite some time now. It just wasn’t something she ever had the time for amongst her busy class schedule, and she was eager to finally pay a visit to the founder’s memorial collection. She’d heard plenty of good things about it from other students, like relics from The Day of Story and Song, and early prototypes of everyday innovations. This was hardly a chore to her, but a treat instead, and she could hardly wait to take a look, let alone actually touch and clean the displays. Upon reaching the large, glass doors, she found her supplies left for her in a neat pile on the doorstep. She scooped them up and, after struggling to open the door with her arms full, made her way inside.

The sights before her made her jaw drop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadia browses the various relics on display at the Miller Museum as she begins her cleaning job.

The various sights within the Miller Museum were something to behold. Nadia stood in bewildered silence for a near solid minute, trying to take in and process her surroundings. The various shapes, sizes, and colors of each artifact were overwhelming on their own, let alone all together in one building. After breaking out of her momentary trance, Nadia took a deep breath and made her way to the nearest display, on which she promptly began her cleaning work.

Among the many, many unique creations held within the exhibit, Nadia was mentally logging the ones she found most interesting as she carried along her janitorial task. There was a small compilation of blueprints and devices related to controlling the behavior of Bugbears, which she had recalled studying in one of her history classes earlier in the year. Definitely not the proudest of the Miller family’s accomplishments for sure, but remained on display as a grim reminder of what had occurred. Then, there was the robotics section; Nadia was immediately drawn to this portion the moment she laid eyes on it. Of particular note were framed scrap papers lined with plans of a conduit for transferring souls into robotic shells, a scrapbook-esque collection of media and personal accounts related to a robot named NO-3113, and the charred remains of an educational toy named Hodge Podge, who had seemingly been detonated under “stress-related circumstances”, as the information plaque had phrased it. Looking at the cracked shards of an LED screen and bent-up metal shrapnel, she felt a cold chill run up her spine; she couldn’t help but feel as though this had been the end result of a very, very tense situation. She shook it off and swiftly moved onward to the next display, trying not to dwell on what could have resulted in the violent explosion.

The next section was behind a pair of black tinted glass doors, like the sort you’d find in the entrance to an art gallery. After struggling (but succeeding) to push them open due to her small stature, she found herself standing at the far end of a corridor; one she soon realized was lined wall-to-wall with elevators. Sure enough, a sign overhead confirmed this observation: “Roman Miller’s Lifting Machines”. Unlike the other displays, these were not in cases; they were merely seated on the carpeted floor, too heavy to prop up on a stand. Nadia breathed a sigh of relief. This would make them much easier to clean than the previous items. After all, they were just elevator cars. She’d just spray, wipe, and move along. Without further hesitation, she got to work on the first car and began working her way down the line. As she moved to and from each display, she took a moment to read their informational plaques. From what she could gather, it seemed like elevators were a huge fad at one point. This alone was enough to warrant a small chuckle from the young elf, but she soon found it escalating into a full-fledged case of the giggles as her eyes browsed down the line ahead of her and caught a glimpse of several with painted, cartoonish faces. She didn’t know why it was so amusing, it was just something about the fact that elevators had become a big enough trend to warrant an attempt at marketing them to children that made her snort. It was so absurd, yet not at all unexpected. After all, pretty much everything had a kid-targeted counterpart nowadays, so it was hardly surprising; just something that had managed to catch her off-guard. Within moments, the novelty of the idea had passed, and she proceeded to the next elevator down the line, eventually finding herself a mere two cars away from the first of the cartoonish creations. She took note to be careful with her scrubbing once she reached it, since she didn’t want to risk washing any of the aging paint job off. However, she was oblivious to the impending surprise that awaited her the second her cleaning rag would even graze its surface;

In the vast, early morning vacancy of the Miller Museum, Nadia Voidgrove was not alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cleaning mishap leads to a new discovery for Nadia.

“Upsy, your lifting friend.”

Nadia stood before the large, yellow doors of the elevator, looking it over curiously. She couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched; after all, this elevator had two massive, cartoonish eyes painted on its doors, both fixated straight ahead. Eyes weren’t the only thing this elevator had, either. A big, red nose that looked as though it were a functional safety light was situated slightly below its eyes, right between them. Below it, an ear-to-ear grin, punctuated by round, rosy cheeks. It looked like a clown had been put through a car crusher and emerged squashed into a dopey, smiling cube. Intrigued, Nadia resumed her assessment of the information plaque beside it. “Constructed by Roman Miller as the family-friendly mascot of the Miller Family elevator company. Modified by Lucas Miller on The Day of Story and Song.” Sealed into the acrylic coating of the plaque was a deteriorated scrap of paper, not unlike a newspaper clipping or a taped-up street poster. It was an advertisement for the titular “Upsy”, depicted on the paper by a cartoonish illustration. Bold lettering surrounding the drawing read promotional slogans, among which was a prominently repeated phrase: “He’s a real, living friend!”. Nadia couldn’t help but question the validity of these claims. She turned her attention away from the vintage poster and refocused on her work. This elevator needed to be cleaned, regardless of the fact that it was staring at her. She spritzed her washcloth with soapy water and applied it to one of the elevator doors, right on one of the painted cheeks of the clownish face, and began to carefully scrub.

The elevator shook.

Nadia nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden movement. It was like a tremor had struck the area, but somehow only impacted one, single car. She began to fear the worst. They hadn’t left any specific instructions regarding it, but could it be that this one wasn’t meant to be cleaned? Was it so badly aged that a simple touch with a wet rag could cause the antiquated metal structure to collapse after years of strain? She half expected it to fall apart on the spot, into a pile of weakened, metal sheets and mechanical framing. She shut her eyes, bracing for the possible catastrophe to unfold before her. This would get her expelled for sure. Destroying a precious piece of Miller family history? That would be death sentence. It was all over. This elevator was going to crumble, and she’d carry the guilt of her mistake for life. She had hoped that, for just once in her life, she wouldn’t ruin something. She’d hoped that one day, just one, would go smoothly without disruption by her own hand. She was a failure, and now, she was going to be the failure that soiled a relic from The Day of Story and Song. A priceless masterpiece of engineering, completely gone because she’d been dumb enough to try and clean it. _I should have stayed in my dorm today,_ she thought, _if I had just stayed in my dorm, none of this would have hap-_

“Hoohoo! Boy, what a wake up call! Is it raining? I sure hope not, I’d hate to get rusty!”, boomed a goofy, cacophonic voice. Nadia screamed and fell to the floor, the wet rag landing on her face with an audible _splat._ Her spray bottle rolled a few inches across the shiny, tile flooring of the museum. The elevator followed it with its unmoving eyes before returning its focus onto the small, now soggy-haired figure in front of it. Nadia pulled the damp cloth from her face and rubbed the soap from her eyes, her vision blurred for a few moments. Before her, a hazy, yellow mass slowly came into view as her vision recovered. The voice returned, with the elevator’s nose-light flashing in synchronization with the words. “Whoopsies! I didn’t mean to scare you! You took quite the tumble there, didn’tcha? Are you ok?”

The kitschy advertisement hadn’t lied. Mr. Upsy was, in fact, very much alive; and now, despite an abrupt awakening, it was time for him to make a new friend.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion occurs on both sides of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I have some regrets. One of those regrets is knowing that there is a specific tag for what occurs in this chapter that I am not going to use because I'm in denial. Another is knowing what I'm going to have to write in the next chapter.))

Nadia could hardly believe her eyes. This elevator, which was ancient and just sitting dormant in a museum, was _talking_ to her. This elevator is _sentient_ , and it's on display like an object? This was a lot to take in. “Mr. Upsy” did not animate as he spoke; his face was merely painted on, and his eyes were just two round windows on either door with painted-on pupils. However, there was one visual indicator that he was the one speaking: his red nose flashed in time with his words. It was flickering rapidly as he rambled on to the young elf, who was far too stunned to voice her own thoughts.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before! Boy, I sure was sleepy! I feel like I’ve been out for years! Are you somebody new? D’ya need a ride? ‘Cause that’s what I do best, y’know! I can take you anywhere! I’m Upsy, your lifting friend!” He beamed, still dead-focused on the small visitor in front of him. Unbeknownst to them both, she was the first person he’d seen in decades. After The Day of Story and Song, Lucas Miller had set him into sleep mode so he could be re-added to his spot in the Miller Family Museum. He had only been woken up several times since then to aid Lucas and his peers, but was always returned to his exhibit after his assistance. After all, he wasn’t particularly pleasant to be around, as most folks could agree. He was loud, obnoxious, and… disquieting to think about for too long. He was helpful, sure, but most everyone was thankful that he was essentially retired. Thus, the museum is where he’d stayed, all the while the world around him changed and the academy was built around his historical home. Despite this long passage of time, he’d never awoken. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, but rather that he just hadn’t. Nothing had disturbed him, not even the countless visitors of the museum. He simply remained in his indefinite slumber, awaiting the eventual day he’d be needed again.

Today, it seemed, was that day.

“Boy, you sure are quiet, huh? Didja bump your head when you fell over? Didja forget how to talk, lil’ guy?” Upsy continued verbally prodding the dazed student before him, hoping for a reply. He certainly hadn’t lost his tendency to talk people’s ears off, that was for sure. After gathering herself as best she could, Nadia shook herself out of her trance and mustered a response. “You… you can talk? You’re actually alive?” She could still hardly believe that this relic was not only somehow mortal, but hadn’t spoken up to anyone until now. Wouldn’t it have gotten bored? Lonely? _Something?_ She had so many questions, and so little social capability to ask them all. “Of course I am, silly! I might be metal on the outside, but on the inside I’m a real, living friend! I’m Mr. Upsy!” With that, its facial doors pulled apart, revealing what could only be described as an organic interior. 

Nadia nearly fainted at the sight. The inside of the elevator was… _fleshy_ , like someone had lined the walls with living, pulsating membrane. A thin, stringy liquid drizzled from the top of the entryway and onto the floor, and seemed to be coating most of the internal lining. Upon further inspection, it became evident that the walls were _actively secreting_ the substance, which bore more than a striking resemblance to saliva. The guttural surroundings throbbed gently, as if in time with a heartbeat. Nadia cautiously stepped closer to investigate. The whole thing reminded her of the inside of a mouth; no, a _stomach_ , actually. It was identical to what she’d seen in her biology courses on the digestive system. This elevator was not only alive, but evidently, _it ate people._ She grew lightheaded at the thought of it. She couldn’t help it, she’d always been terribly squeamish.

“Don’t be shy! C’mon in!” Upsy urged. Nadia jumped slightly at his sudden persuasion. “I’m not going in there”, she argued, “I really don’t think it's safe.” Upsy felt almost offended by her hesitation. “Don’t be silly! Of course it's safe! I’m an elevator, you’re supposed to get in!” Nadia still took his words with a grain of salt. Even if it wasn’t dangerous, what would the repercussions be for not only waking up a museum exhibit, but actively conversing and interacting with it? She could practically see her head mounted on her professor’s wall; an extremely hyperbolic image, of course, but she had a tendency to assume the worst. “I can’t”, she began, “I’m just supposed to clean you and then go back to my dorm. I’m not supposed to mess with any of the displays, and I’m pretty sure that includes chatting with one.” Upsy frowned internally at this. A new friend, after all this time asleep, and they couldn’t even go for a ride? This simply would not do. He was built to be a good elevator and an even better friend, and he was strictly sworn to his duty. Remembering the additions he’d received during that great big battle a while back, he shuddered slightly as a flap opened up on his left side, ejecting a massive mechanical arm. Any recovery that Nadia had experienced from her previous panic-induced nausea was immediately rendered ineffective as she watched the transformation unfold. She couldn’t even think at this point. _I was just supposed to clean the museum,_ she mused to herself as she gazed helplessly at the monolithic metal hand quickly descending upon her, _I was just supposed to clean the stupid museum._ The tight, cold embrace of firm, metal fingers surrounded her. She didn’t even bother to struggle. What use was there? One way or another, she was going to die today, and it was all because she’d messed up the simple task of washing some stuff with a rag and a squirt bottle. Nothing about this day could surprise her any more, as far as she was concerned. It was just one surreal catastrophe after the other, without a single positive outcome in sight.

What _was_ in sight, though, was the relatively unpleasant view of being tossed between two smiling, bright yellow elevator doors and into the darkness of a fleshy, rectangular gullet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A panic-stricken Nadia narrowly avoids a lawsuit while learning a bit more about her captor.

Darkness. Pitch-black, blinding darkness.

 

...Except, not exactly. It took Nadia less than a second to realize that she was squeezing her eyes shut and quickly opened them. In reality, her surroundings were alarmingly well-lit; Upsy’s eyes served as windows, through which the many spotlights of the exhibition shone through to his interior. That being said, however, it was debatable whether or not things would have been more pleasant had it been too dark to see. The fleshiness Nadia had glimpsed from the outside was now up-close and surrounding her. Even the floor of the elevator was damp and malleable, with the whole room pulsating slightly in time with a mysterious heartbeat. Ever the weak of stomach, Nadia had to hold back a retch when she caught sight of the doorside “button” panel, which instead appeared to be a series of bulbous nodes in vertical rows. She had anticipated all of this from her outside preview, and yet she still fell ill when finally confronted with it properly. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she slid down the back wall onto the floor, trying to alleviate her nausea, which was inevitably worsened by further contact with the guttural texture. 

 

Upsy seemed to take note of his passenger’s discomfort, and promptly checked in on her. “Wuh-oh! Everything alright? That’s the second fall you’ve taken! Are your legs working? D’ya need me to hold you up?” Unbeknownst to Nadia, her mechanical captor meant no harm; he’d never been the best at social skills, but this little stranger seemed especially frail, even moreso than he was used to. It had been a very long time since he’d interacted with anyone; maybe people had gotten easier to scare over time? This was going to be tricky to deal with, especially if he wanted to turn a potential friend into a proper one. Suddenly, a perfect solution hit him, and he quickly began to adjust his custom mechanisms to set it into motion. When Lucas had given him limbs, he’d also installed a cockpit; one that he could retract into his flooring at will when necessary, much like the rest of his combat additions. After some brief strain, a small leather seat emerged from the center of his cab, rotating itself to face the light-headed elf in the corner behind it. Nadia, immediately grateful for the sudden relief from touching bio-engineered wall-flesh, clambered sluggishly toward it and pulled herself up onto the seat. The arms of the chair had joystick controls on them, which she didn’t dare to tamper with. She sank low into the cushion, her spinning vision gradually re-adjusting itself as her sickness faded. At this point, she had mostly returned to her healthy shade of green, rather than the far darker, murkier shadow of biliousness that had covered her cheeks moments before. A jittery “Thank you” escaped from her exasperated figure, just barely loud enough for the mechanoid to hear. It was still moderately disquieting to still be viewing her location, but the intensity added from touching it had been far, far worse for her feeble complexion. The seat turned back to face the entrance doors. Through Upsy’s eye-windows, she could see the walkway of the exhibit, along with her scattered janitorial equipment. She sat up in her seat to get a better look, at which point she noticed that the view seemed to be rising somewhat.

 

He was trying to stand.

  
Panicking, Nadia leapt from the chair and knocked loudly against the windows. “No, no, no! Don’t stand up! Do  _ not  _ stand up!” she urged, hoping that she had reacted quickly enough to avoid further catastrophe; the museum had moderately high ceilings, sure, but given what she’d seen of this elevator’s arms when they were only half-extended, she had reasonable doubt that it would be high enough to accommodate his size, and the last thing she needed today was to spend all of her savings on roof repairs for the campus museum. Thankfully, Upsy was immediately taken aback by her distress, and halted his leg-extension process before he could even reach half-length. He retracted his limbs and settled back down onto the display room floor. “What’s the matter?” he queried, “I was gonna find you a bed or somethin’ to lay in so you can stop feelin’ pukey!” Nadia was flattered by his concern, pleasantly surprised that Upsy, despite his evident clumsiness in both the physical and social sense, really  _ was  _ a benevolent invention, albeit a bizarre and grotesque one. It made the situation a lot less harrowing, in spite of the many problems at hand. Nadia took a quick breather before answering. “I appreciate it, a lot, actually, but there’s a  _ lot  _ we need to go over before you start locomoting.”


End file.
